Acts and Epicurianism
by johnsarmylady
Summary: The case was completed, there was nothing that should have come between Sherlock and sleep...so why was it that John woke to find him researching in the middle of the night? In the end all that mattered was that the research was put to satisfactory use! A birthday fic for the lovely Ennui Enigma - enjoy!


**My good friend Ennui Enigma is celebrating her birthday, and to honour the day I asked her for three words to include in the story that I would write for her. As ever she stretched my brain cells, and my understanding, and gave me Eunoia, Callipygian and Sumatra.  
So, Happy Birthday EE, I hope you enjoy this story, and my use of your chosen words! Hugs honey!**

It had been a night like any other – a routine that they had slipped into as naturally as breathing. The case was solved and the criminal awaited justice; now was the time to eat and celebrate – Angelo's – good food, candle-light (John had long since stopped denying what was essentially the truth) then home.

From there the evening went one of two ways, with high energy, adrenalin driven lust filled sex or, as it had last night, with happily exhausted cuddles and weary sighs of contentment.

John's lips curved in a warm satisfied smile. Part of his brain registered that it was stupid o'clock in the morning, not yet light, no birds singing, but there was an intermittent tapping that he would recognise anywhere.

He rolled over, cracked open one eye and looked up at his partner/best friend/lover.

"Didn't sleep long then?"

Sherlock hummed in agreement, intent still on the laptop screen.

"Did we miss something?"

"No." At last the multi-hued eyes looked down at the supine figure next to him, and a small smile crept across his face. "No, I found myself wakeful and decided to do a little research, that's all."

Watching as a small frown marred the sleep-plumped smoothness of John's face he reached out and ran his thumb lightly across the other man's brow, wiping away the puzzled creases.

"I thought I might look into the mating rituals of the Orang Rimba tribe of eastern **Sumatra**."

His smile grew as John's eyes widened, now fully awake and ever so slightly flushed.

"Mating rituals?" he repeated

"Hmm. They are very precise in their methods, and very vocal…."

"Vocal?" John was beginning to wonder when he had turned into a parrot, but his brain seemed stuck on mating rituals and vocal lovemaking, and all other cognitive function fled.

Sherlock leaned down, his plump, full lips almost brushing the shell of John's ear as he whispered

"They talk dirty to each other."

John swallowed hard as a jolt of desire shot through his body. Sherlock read the reaction and chuckled, his hot breath across John's skin playing havoc with every nerve receptor in the smaller man's body.

"Jesus." He breathed, reaching for the lithe body next to him and pulling him closer.

With a flick of his fingers Sherlock shut down his computer and placed it on the bedside table before sliding down under the covers and into John's arms.

"And now for the experiment." He let his voice deepen and his tongue flick across John's earlobe.

"Yessss." Dark golden lashes fluttered as eyelids covered deep blue eyes turned black with lust.

Sherlock grinned.

"I want," he whispered,"to lick every inch of your body. I want to follow where my tongue has gone with my teeth, and mark you as mine."

John's breath hissed through his teeth as Sherlock proceeded to do exactly that, moving down the column of John's throat licking and nipping as he went, careful not to mark too much until he reached the muscular chest, already glowing with need, nipples erect and awaiting their turn for the other man's attentions.

Teasing, he moved back up and lowered his head once more beside John's ear.

"By the time I've finished with you tonight you'll be begging for mercy."

By now every inch of John's body was wanting attention from Sherlock, but the detective was intent on teasing him unmercifully, and although John's hands held him tightly while he thrust his hips up in an attempt to grind his arousal against Sherlock's, the taller man managed to twist away, holding himself just out of the doctor's reach. A whine squeezed its way from John's throat.

"On your knees, doctor."

"But….."

"Now." It was a lust-filled growl, one that galvanised his partner into action.

"How?" There was a shake in John's voice that spoke direct to Sherlock's throbbing arousal…

"Hands against the wall." Hands on John's waist as he leant forward, Sherlock slipped his knee between his thighs, forcing them apart before leaning in, skin pressed against warm muscular skin.

Burying his face in the crook of John's neck, he licked, sucked and nipped his way up to whisper into his ear once more, describing in great detail exactly what he was going to do, eventually, to his body, and all the while he stroked long slightly calloused fingers first down his arms.

"Fuck." John groaned as that soft voice kept up a filthy litany while the hands moved constantly.

"Oh yes, I plan to do that too…"

"Now?" Pushing his hips back John trapped Sherlock's engorged cock between his buttocks and squeezed his muscles tight.

For a moment the younger man found himself thrusting forward, increasing the friction before easing back, bringing his breathing under control and running his hands down to massage the muscles that had held him captive.

"I find it hard to keep my hands from your **callipygian** temptation; the Greeks were masters at describing the pleasures of a good body…."

John's mind was racing…..then he smiled and thrust backwards, capturing Sherlock once more.

"Let me tempt you some more," he growled, his voice rough with desire.

"John!" Sherlock sucked in his breath, gripping John's hips and losing himself in the sensation flooding him. "I think your body is enough to drive me insane…"

He wasn't able to finish his sentence as John thrust the bottle of lube into his hand.

"I'll do more than drive you insane Sherlock Holmes, do it now!"

Working swiftly with the viscous fluid Sherlock prepped them both, entering his lover with a gasp and shudder of pleasure, the sound complemented by John's ecstatic sigh.

Taking the weight of both their bodies on his shoulders as he continued to lean against the wall, John lost himself in the sensation of his lover filling him, moving within him, and reaching around him to stroke him in time to the rhythm they had set.

The sound of their ragged breaths and almost animal cries filled the room as wave after wave of orgasm shot through them, and John's arms quivered with a mixture of aftershocks and endorphins.

Gently he manoeuvred his body so that he could 'carry' Sherlock back to the softness of their mattress, and as eventually the younger man withdrew, John turned and pulled him close.

"Drive you insane?" he chuckled softly as long lithe limbs wrapped around him. "You think that, when you can talk dirty to me in Greek? No, there's nothing wrong with your **eunoia** Sherlock."


End file.
